


Remembrance

by limeta



Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon & Comics)
Genre: Gen, The Unknown (Over the Garden Wall)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23949703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limeta/pseuds/limeta
Summary: Wirt draws the characters of the Unknown. When his mother sees them, he learns something very unfortunate.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 89





	Remembrance

In order to cope with what had happened to both him and Greg, Wirt took to drawing. It started as a hobby, but the more he did it the better he became at it. Most of his drawings were memories he still carried from the Unknown.

He drew all of the characters he and Greg had met. It turned into such an ordinary thing in his routine that some of his schoolmates asked him if they were characters from a show or something.

‘’No,’’ Wirt sheepishly admitted, ‘’they’re from my own head.’’This was the least crazy explanation he could think of. Especially because it turned him into a creative writer that could, if he wanted to, make it big by selling his idea to a cartoon network.

Wirt didn’t like to entertain those thoughts.

* * *

Greg always watched him while he drew and told him what was wrong; since as it appeared, Greg remembered them more vividly. Maybe it was an age thing?  
  
Wirt didn't think too much of it. ''Am I getting the eyes right on Beatrice, Greg? Greg?'' he turned around to seek out his brother. ''Why must you wander off, Greg?'' The elder brother groaned. He heard giggling from underneath his bed and smiled fondly as he grabbed a hold of Greg's dangling leg and tugged at it gently. ''I see you, Greg. Come out!''

''Hey, there's a bunch of drawings here.'' Greg crawled out from underneath the bed with papers in his hands that he set down on the table and scattered about. Wirt snickered when he noticed Greg had cobwebs in his hair. He ruffled his hair and took them out with a smile.

There were characters on those papers: The Woodsman, Lorna, Enoch, and The Beast. They were all unfinished in a way. Enoch was missing all of the lines on his pumpkin head. The Beast wasn't coloured. The Woodsman's hand was missing. These were all drafts; doodles of some kind. Wirt scowled deeply at the drawings and mumbled, ''I better finish these. Here, the Beast is easiest.'' Wirt grabbed the paper and started colouring the inky black creature.

''Knock knock!'' A woman's voice said happily.

Greg laughed, ''Who's there!''

''Cookies!'' Wirt smiled at the response their mother gave.

''Cookies who?''

''Cookies for you and your brother!'' The good woman smiled. Greg clapped his hands together and rushed to open the door. She entered with a tray of cookies and winked.

Their mother was a perfect mix of the boys. She had Wirt's hair and Greg's smile.

She was the type you'd see doing volunteer work. After giving her kids a smile she spotted the mess on the table and raised an inquisitive brow. 

Wirt blushed in embarrassment and quickly moved the drawing utensils off the table so she could set the tray down. When he made enough room she set it down and kissed his cheek. ''How are you two?'' She sat down on the bed and gestured the cookies, ''Eat as much as you like. My brave boys.'' Her voice broke on that sentence. Almost losing her sons did that to a mother.

The fact that she could have lost her children still haunted her.

Now that she was so near the drawings, their mother properly deigned to anylise the drawings. From the ones scattered about she took one randomly to look at and admire. Her son's skill was nothing to sneeze at. The drawing depicted a nice bird, the details were extraordinary.

Greg munched on the cookies eagerly while Wirt took one, maybe two in a reserved manner. She shook her head at that but said nothing.

''Do you like them, Gregory?'' A smile spread across her face when her son nodded and took another.

''Yeah, mommy! They're awesome!''

''What about you, Wirt? My little artist?''

Said artist nodded with a small smile. ''They're great, mom.'' He swallowed and rubbed his hands together to clean the crumbs. ''Mom, don't look at those. They're not finished yet.''

‘’Son, these drawings of yours look amazing!'' She exclaimed. ''I love how realistic this bird looks. Did you use a reference? It's _very_ good.'' She patted his head and took another drawing. ''Oh, this is one of your abstract art right?'' As she asked this she turned the drawings in different angles. She was looking at Enoch and the pumpkins with arched eyebrows. When she narrowed her eyes and saw a skeleton putting on a pumpkin on its head in the background she stopped a bit. Her cheery tone dropped to a whisper. ''May I see some more, son?''

After Wirt nodded he handed her another drawing. The frogs. She studied the drawing and commented on it. Greg had eaten most of the cookies and had joined their mother to marvel at Wirt's impressive skill. When they both commented on that he blushed and told him he wasn't all that good. She handed her younger son the drawing she had finished watching and stared down at her hands for a moment, collecting her thoughts, before asking to see another drawing. Her voice was quiet.

Wirt took a random drawing off the table and gave it to her. It was Lorna in her possessed form. His mother gasped in surprise and asked, ''Oh is this from one of those horror shows I keep being warned about.'' She laughed. It was a laugh that bordered on hysterical.

Greg shook his head no and tugged at her sleeve. She looked at him. ''No mommy, that's Lorna. Wirt and I saved her from the evil spirit. With Jimmy's help of course!'' He took the frog and pulled him to his lap. ''He swallowed the magic bell and thanks to him we freed her from the evil spirit!''

The mother smiled at her son's words. ''That's, ahem, that’s nice dear.''

''Mom, I really don't think you want to see the rest of these. They're stupid.'' Wirt tried to get himself out of this.

His mother crossed her arms. ‘‘That is what you said about the rest of them and I loved each and every one. You have talent, Wirt. If you'd like, I could sign you up for an art class?'' She offered and enjoyed seeing her son smile in happiness.

''I don't know, I'll think about it...'' He gave her the drawing of the Woodsman next. ''This one's unfinished. It's a doodle really. I mean, I don't know...uh...'' He stammered.

''I like it,'' was all she said. She gazed at it for a while and repeated, ''I like it, Wirt. It looks really nice.'' The shading was very well done on this one. The source of the light was unknown to her however. The mother looked at the drawing carefully and noticed that a hand was missing and asked, ‘‘What was supposed to be in the hand, Wirt?''

Greg answered: ‘‘A spooky dark _lantern_!''

Their mother seemed to twitch at those words, before composing. ''A lantern you say?'' She laughed, ''Well that would explain the shading. What? Not a fan of drawing lanterns, son?''

Wirt grumbled, ''I didn't get to it yet.''

''I like your drawings very much!'' She proclaimed for all to hear. Greg scooted closer to her and she gave him a hug before asking for another drawing. ‘’Give me another one of your stupendously amazing drawings, Wirt!'' Her son blushed at that comment and grabbed the only one left on his desk.

A black figure stared at her with its unmoving, hollow eyes. This was the simplest drawing her son had handed her, yet it was the only one that made her tremble. She shook and grabbed the paper with her tremor ridden hand, wrinkling the paper. She heard her children ask what was wrong but all she could remember was the singing and the mirthless laughter filled with mocking. Filled with disdain. She recalled her losing hope. She recalled the screams.

She dropped the paper and stood up suddenly, as if burned to see it. Tears welled in her eyes as she took a step back.

''Mommy what's wrong?'' Her children asked. She couldn't answer. Her chest was shaking, her heart was beating.

''...You know...the Beast...'' Their mother finally managed to say. ''You were in The Unknown...weren't you?'' She gazed up at them and trembled. It had been so long since any memory in her resurfaced. Seeing that hideous creature brought out another sob out of her.

Hearing the commotion, the stepfather cautiously entered the room and asked what was wrong. Wirt and Greg tried to explain in the best way they could but their mother beat them to it: ''I was just admiring my sons. Who are, you know, **alive**.''

Seeing that there wasn’t any harm done, the father and father-figure receded.

The mother straightened herself up and demanded in the most serious tone they had ever heard her use, ''Tell me more about your travels in The Unknown. Skip no details. I want to know how and why you were sent there.''

So the boys began their tales. She listened intently.

Wirt was still apprehensive about telling her all of the dangerous people they faced, but she was adamant to hear them all. When they came to the Beast story, they heard their mother gasp in recognition.

Greg began and told her how he was in Cloud City. A tear slid down her cheek at that. He explained vividly to her how tree roots grew over Wirt and pulled him down.

''You mean to tell me that you went with the Beast on your own?'' She asked incredulously. Then, she laughed in disbelief: ''You're so brave, Greg. My brave little boy.''

Wirt nodded in agreement. ''Yeah, then he gave me a heart attack when I woke up and heard the Beast singing his tune.''

''I can only imagine the horror you felt.''

''...Yeah...I fell in a freezing lake and was fished out with a net by a fish. Oh and Beatrice.''

The mother hugged her eldest son.

''What did he make you do Gregory?'' The mother inquired of the youngest. Then explained when Wirt’s confusion turned evident. ''What did the Beast make you do in the snowstorm?''

''He made me fetch him a golden comb. I brought him a honey comb...something silver, I brought him spider web on a stick...and he wanted me to-''

Her eyes widened in horror at the familiarity of everything, ''-lower the sun inside a tea cup...''

''YEAH!'' Greg shouted. Wirt raised an eyebrow at his mother.

She shivered. ''I'm so happy you two came back to me.''

''How did you two even survive? The last time I saw the Beast he was pretty angry that I had bested him in a way...not at his little challenges...but that he couldn't do what he had done to my friends to me.’’

Curiosity piqued, Wirt was the first to ask about their mother’s time in the Unknown.

She was still thinking her sons’ predicament over: ‘’How did you two escape him? He wouldn't let you live as long as he could move.'' She whispered. ''I was just lucky enough to have something he wanted at the time...I'll never forgive myself for doing what I had done.''

The mother took a moment to reflect on her actions. A look of horror crossed her face. She closed her eyes. When that was done she turned to her children and asked them to explain how both of them survived.

''The lantern he carries...'' Wirt began, ''was a container for his soul.''

He watched his mother’s reaction. The revelation struck her hard. ''I can't believe it.’’ Her hands curled into fists. ‘’I had that fucking lantern in my hands!''

Greg gasped and covered his mouth with his hands: ‘’Mom, you said a bad word!’’

''Sorry.’’ Their mother apologized, ‘’Go on, Wirt.''

She hung on every word her eldest spoke. It was so easy now that she looked at it. But being stuck in ignorance was what the Beast wanted most.

''And then the Woodsman blew out his soul. We woke up and were taken to the hospital...that's it.''

''You both survived. No ultimatum to follow...my… I can only imagine the priceless face on the creature when you said his deal was stupid.'' The woman laughed abruptly. This was a lot to process. Perhaps after this, she would never look at her sons the same way again. It had been bad for her to come to terms with her journey in, what she could only assume was, the afterlife –but her children? Her young, impressionable children facing off against a monster was

''How did you win?'' Greg asked.

She sighed deeply at that.

Her eldest son looked interested now.

''I wasn't alone. There were some of my friends from school. We got in a car accident around back where the graveyard is now. There were three of us.’’ Willingly remembering this brought tears to her eyes. She tried to blink them away. What kind of mother cried in front of her children?

With a wobbly, uncertain voice she continued: ‘’I found a lit lantern and took it to help me through the forest. You see, boys, the Beast had left it with someone and that someone had left it on a table. I do vaguely remember there was an axe... Apparently I had stolen the lantern...'' She laughed sourly at that accusation.

''It happened when I was thirteen. My friends were both sixteen – yes, yes, your mother hung out with an older crowd. They got lost. And do you remember all of the lullabies I sang to you kids, no? No matter, I sang them to help calm my anxiety down...and well, I do think that me being musical played a big part in not getting mauled to death. The Unknown cherishes its musicians.’’

‘’The Beast did sing.’’

‘’Right. The Beast.’’ The mother’s look soured. ‘’He had already found me. But he found no lantern with me. He was livid, kids. I don’t think I’ve ever been more frightened in my life. He interrogated me and demanded I tell him where I had hidden the lantern. I heard tree roots advancing on me…. I remembered tales of him turning people into oil trees from a nice tavern keeper. He _hissed_ at me, his deep voice rang in my ears. It felt like the darkness itself spoke through him...’’ She couldn’t go on, her voice turned to ash.

‘’What did happen to the lantern?’’Wirt asked her. He put a comforting hand to her hand and waited patiently.

‘’I gave them to my friend in hopes of them finding some food. I wasn't into girl scouts and they were, so I figured they'd get the whole poisonous – not poisonous berry thing.’’

‘’The Beast didn’t scare me!’’ Greg admitted. Maybe he could admit that and actually believe that because he was much younger than either Wirt or her when they’d met him.

‘’I shed tears in front of him when he grabbed me by my shoulders. Slowly, carefully, he tried striking up a deal when he saw that I was a blubbering mess. I do not know why he was honest with me... it could have been the desperation. The lantern didn't look like it was going to last when I gave it to my friends. He asked me in a crooning tone where the lantern was. Oh that _manipulating_ monster switched his entire tactic! He told me that he would help me get back home personally if I told him the truth. I was so scared and exhausted I told him everything, in which direction they went in – everything...''

Wirt laid a hand on his mother's shoulder when he saw her tearing up again. Greg hugged her.

''I was the only one to survive the car crash.'' She finally said.

''Oh mom...'' Wirt whispered.

She wiped her tears away and stood up, kissing both her children goodnight and forced a smile. ''Well, that's all in the past now. We're all alive and well...goodnight, my dear boys.'' She closed the door.

Once outside a soundless sob shook through her and she bit her hand. For good measure, in her mind, just for herself, she repeated: _We are alive. We beat him. He can never hurt us again._

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS HELLA OLD WRITING DON'T JUDGE MY WRITING OFF OF THIS


End file.
